


Sleep Deprived

by Miniatures



Category: Supernatural
Genre: College AU, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 15:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3734467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miniatures/pseuds/Miniatures
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College finals are killing Sam slowly, but he's got a silver lining. Well, two if you count his friend Chuck's gorgeous roommate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep Deprived

**Author's Note:**

> Work inspired by esayx's post on Tumblr. (http://eyasx.tumblr.com/post/114835594589/college-au-where-person-a-always-falls-asleep-in)

At first, Sam wasn’t sure what had caused the thump that had woken him. Nor did he have any idea why his neck was bent at such an unnatural angle, or why his legs were hanging off the edge of—

Oh. Right.

Sam hauled himself into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his neck and blinking at his surroundings. He glanced around for the source of the thump—found one of his Criminology texts lying open on the floor. His notebooks and other textbooks were piled on the floor, and his laptop was whirring quietly on the coffee table next to the couch where he’d crashed.

He’d fallen asleep studying in the common room. Again.

And again, there were three cookies and a cup of steaming tea by his laptop.

It was the third time that week. Papers were due, finals were creeping up, and even though it was technically spring, the perpetual fatigue of winter still clung to Sam like a fungus. He wasn’t behind, not yet—but he was barely holding himself together all the same.

It was the third time that week, but it was the seventh time overall. The seventh time Sam had awoken to find all his things undisturbed, and the seventh time he’d found cookies and tea waiting for him when he did. He had no idea who was doing it—Sam liked to study alone, so he’d taken to doing it in his friend Chuck’s dorm building, which was across campus from his own. It was smaller and so much quieter, and Sam and Chuck had managed to get on RA Becky Rosen’s good side with a combination of bribery and Sam’s face, of which Becky was a fan. Other than them, nobody in the building so much as knew Sam’s name. Chuck had denied bringing him the cookies and tea. Becky had only looked disappointed that she hadn’t thought to do it herself. The only other person who knew where Sam studied was his own roommate, Brady, but while they got along fine, Sam suspected Brady wasn’t a cross-campus-to-watch-over-you kind of friend. And he’d confirmed that suspicion after the first night.

Still, it was nice to know somebody cared. Sam only had a handful of friends on campus, and he hadn’t seen his family since Christmas. School was isolation in numbers, and while Sam certainly liked being alone, he didn’t like feeling alone. The cookies and tea were a lifeline, meager though they were.

Sam picked up the tea and took a tentative sip—peppermint chocolate, a little milk and no sugar. Just how he liked it. He sat back and closed his eyes, letting the tea warm his hands. He was supposed to be crashing in Chuck’s suite dorm, as one of his two roommates was currently holed up at their boyfriend’s apartment, but for now he was content to sit and relax.

 

Sam stumbled into Chuck’s building late that afternoon. Becky gave him an eager smile as he entered, which he returned. By the way her expression contorted, Sam guessed he looked as awful as he felt. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep again until six AM that morning, and his classes had run from nine to five with few breaks in between. He was running on a stiff cocktail of caffeine and fumes, and he had two major papers due somewhere in the next fourteen hours.

Fucking college.

He had already knocked on the door of Chuck’s dorm before he remembered that it was a Tuesday, and that Chuck was currently in an evening class that wouldn’t let out until eight. Sam was about to head back for the common room when the door swung open.

In his current mental state, Sam found it difficult to focus on just one of the many lines of thought that began spiraling through his brain at that moment. Wide eyes like burnt honey belonging to—embarrassing, shouldn’t have knocked—Chuck’s other roommate, who Sam hadn’t met—short, bold nose, soft-looking mouth—had Chuck told him his name? Sam knew Balthazar but Chuck hadn’t said—

“Uh, can I help you?”

Sam blinked, and realized that Chuck’s roommate had just asked him a question. He shook his head, blinked a couple of times to steady the tilting hallway.

“Sorry, no, I was here for Chuck but I,” Sam cleared his throat. _Crap_ , it was dry. “I just remembered he isn’t… back yet.”

“No, he isn’t.” The roommate leaned one hand on the doorframe and gave a wry smile. “Wanna wait here for him, Gigantor?”

“Uh.” Sam could feel his cheeks burning. The young man in front of him was _pretty_ , and if he hadn’t felt so much like death Sam probably would’ve accepted the invitation with a grin and proceeded to charm the hemmed-to-fuck pants off of him. But he did feel like death, and was more than certainly making himself look more ridiculous with every passing second. Still, his brain was twigging _pretty_ , and his brain made a call. “Sure.”

Chuck’s roommate stepped aside to let him in. Sam stood awkwardly in the doorway a moment before his feet caught up with his head and he entered the dorm. He followed Chuck’s roommate to the kitchenette, where he dropped his things on the ground and collapsed on a barstool.

“Something to drink?” The guy’s smile just _never left_ his eyes, did it?

“Water, please.”

“Gotcha.”

There was a moment of silence as Sam’s water was poured and slid his way. Chuck’s roommate fetched a can of Pepsi from the minifridge and leaned on the counter across from Sam.

“So,” he said. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Sam.”

“Gabriel.” Gabriel held a hand out, and Sam took it, his gut fluttering at the contact. “Good to meetcha, Sam. Take it finals are kicking your ass, huh? Chuck’s falling apart too, it’s kinda hilarious.”

Sam bristled. “How the hell are _you_ so calm, then?”

Gabriel laughed. It was full and a little manic, and Sam decided he liked the sound. “Please! I show up to class, I show up to the exams, I hand in my papers…” he shrugged. “Guaranteed pass right there. Why kill myself over nothing? Guys like you and Chuck take this shit too seriously, Samalam.”

“Some of us want to get into a good grad school,” Sam said, narrowing his eyes. “Some of us want to get _jobs_.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “What are you, twenty-one, twenty-two?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Okay. So you’re young, right? Super young, can’t-even-rent-a-car young. And you’re already so fucking dead inside that you care more about getting into a good grad school than you do your own sanity. When was the last time you slept? Ate? Went _out_?”

Sam hunched his shoulders. He wasn’t being attacked, he knew, but he also knew that Gabriel had a point. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d done something just for him, just for fun.

“I can’t afford to,” he said, and he wasn’t sure whether he was telling Gabriel or himself. “The only reason I was able to _afford_ college was because I got a scholarship. I can’t throw that away, I can’t just _stop_ …”

“Sure you can.” Gabriel grinned. “You’re just scared to.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Kiddo, I know from breaks. Summer, Christmas, Spring, _and_ study.” He leaned in a bit closer. “Chuck’s told me about you, y’know—it is Sam _Winchester_ , right? On the Dean’s List, 4.0 GPA, smart as a fucking whip and nicest guy in the world to boot. And, if I might say so myself, too hot to be real.” Gabriel winked. “Trust me, you could take a break if you really wanted.”

Sam gave a grateful smile, but shook his head. “Not tonight. I’ve got shit due tomorrow.”

Gabriel sighed. “Okay, point. And tomorrow?”

“I‘ve… got shit due…?”

“After that.”

“Oh. Nothing, I guess.”

Gabriel reached a hand into his pants pocket, fished around a moment before drawing out a crumpled pink flyer and handing it over. Sam smoothed it out, saw it was an ad for a club—half-price at the door for students with ID. He glanced at Gabriel, who was grinning.

“Wanna? You can pick me up here.”

Sam realized, distantly, that Gabriel might just be asking him out. He also realized that if that were the case, he would absolutely be interested.

But clubs _really_ weren’t his thing. And if he was on the verge of collapse now, he could only imagine what he’d be like tomorrow. His sleep-deprived brain was trying to figure out a polite way to turn Gabriel’s offer down without outright rejecting him when Gabriel leaned away, flushing a little.

“Or, uh, y’know, we don’t have to go together if you don’t want. But they know me there, just tell security you’re with Gabriel Novak and they can get you—”

Gabriel _Novak._

Oh, shit.

He was an idiot. He was an idiot and he was a nerd and a loser and he was being asked out by Gabriel _fucking_ Novak, the campus’ renowned prank-and-party god. The man was ridiculously popular, allied with no frat or club but a friend to all—if Gabriel Novak didn’t at least make a token appearance at your party, then you had failed. There was a goddamn _mythology_ surrounding him, and he was asking Sam out.

And he thought Sam was going to say no.

And Sam was panicking.

He made a sound like a strangled cat and dove to pick up his things. “I’ll, uh, I’ll get back to you on that, okay? I’m coming back up, I just… gotta…”

Sam was gone before Gabriel could get another word in.

 

He was having a hard time staying awake. 

One paper was done, the other close to. A page under the limit, just a paragraph to go, and Sam’s mind was a blank. His lids were heavy, his eyes wouldn’t stay focused. His fingers trembled as he plucked out one, two( _goddammit, just hammer out four more sentences. Four more bullshit sentences and you can sleep_ ), three words.

He glanced at the time on his laptop screen. Nearly four-thirty AM, closing in on two full days with less than six hours of sleep between them. Sam let out a hysterical little laugh. He’d better get a fucking A on this paper, all things considered. Sam wondered whether he could petition his professor to boost his mark if he provided medical proof that the assignment had driven him insane. Or if he stepped out into traffic the next day and broke his legs.

The laptop screen was getting dimmer, and Sam’s eyes hurt.

 

“Sam? Sam, wake up.”

Sam thudded back into consciousness with a full-body jolt and a sharp inhale. He flailed a moment, breathing heavy and wild, but there were strong hands firm on his chest and shoulder, and a warm press at his side. He blinked, raised a hand to swipe cold sweat from his forehead. Heard a familiar chuckle from somewhere by his ear.

“Jesus, you okay, Samsquatch?”

Sam met Gabriel’s eyes—still glinting amber in the dim light of his laptop screen—and was suddenly mortified. “Wha—?”

“You were cryin’ out, kiddo. Nightmare?”

“I… yeah.” Sam furrowed his brow. “I, uh, I get them… a lot. When I’m stressed.”

Gabriel gave a low whistle. “Shit. Must’ve been a doozy.”

“Yeah.” Sam resisted the urge to lean into Gabriel. It really had been horrible, and he’d forgotten how comforting it could be to wake up next to someone after a bad dream. Even if that someone was one of the most renowned men on campus, in front of whom Sam had just royally embarrassed himself.

Twice. 

“Okay.” Gabriel slid one arm under Sam’s armpits, kept the other flat on his chest, and hauled the taller man to his feet.  “C’mon. Grab your shit, we’re getting you upstairs.”

Once they’d made it back to Chuck’s suite, Sam made to turn to Balthazar’s room. Gabriel stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“He’s in,” he whispered. “He and Baldur had a fight, he’s been exiled to the dorm until further notice.”

“Then where—”

“My room, I’ve got a futon should be big enough for your giant self. C’mere.”

Gabriel’s futon was, in fact, big enough for Sam. Mainly because it took up the entire floor of his bedroom sans Gabriel’s actual bed.

“I like to make this place wasted folk-friendly,” he explained, flopping down on said actual bed. “Make yourself at home.”

Giving his host a weak smile, Sam deposited his things in the corner of Gabriel’s room and curled up on the futon, leaning back against the bedframe. “I don’t know if I can sleep after that,” he murmured.

“No fucking kidding,” Gabriel said. “You were practically _sobbing_ , kiddo. And hell, you’re still shaking.” Sam froze as Gabriel leaned over and rubbed his shoulder. The shorter man pulled away. “Sorry.”

“No, no, uh, just…” Sam bit his lip. “Embarrassing.”

“Why?”

“You saw me _crying._ In my sleep.”

“Well, yeah, you had a nightmare. So what?” 

“Just…” Sam realized he was getting choked up again. _Fucking sleep deprivation._ He swallowed the lump in his throat and coughed. “I’m such a mess. And you’re right; I’m fucking dead inside. I’m killing myself for twenty percent of my grade. If I didn’t hand this assignment in, you know what’d happen? Nothing. I’d still pass the class. Sure, my GPA might drop a little, but not enough to keep me from doing what I want to do. And I don’t even _know_ if it’s what I want to do, it’s just what I’ve always thought I _should…_ ” He sighed, dropped his head into his hands. “Fuck. Sorry. I’m going crazy.”

There was the sound of shifting sheets, and then Gabriel was dropping onto the floor beside him and Sam was being pulled into a tight hug.

“You’re an idiot,” Gabriel said, “but you’re not going crazy. You need to get some fucking sleep, Sam. You need to _relax._ ”

Sam sniffed and buried his face in Gabriel’s shoulder. Realized belatedly that he was hugging Gabriel fucking Novak, and that Gabriel fucking Novak was a lot softer than Sam would’ve thought a campus legend should be.

They stayed like that for what felt like forever, for what wasn’t nearly long enough.

“I wanna get a drink with you,” Sam mumbled against the skin of Gabriel’s throat. “But a quiet drink. Just us. No clubs.”

“I can do that,” Gabriel said, and Sam swore he could hear the smile in his voice. He began to pull away, gently but firmly, and got to his feet. “For now, you want some tea?”

Sam nodded. Gabriel turned to browse through a collection of tins on the shelf behind him.

“You got a preference?” Gabriel asked over his shoulder.

“No, anything you want’s fine. Nothing caffeinated, though.”

“Way ahead of you, Sammy.”

As he continued to rifle through tins and packets, Sam’s eye caught on one label in particular. _Peppermint Chocolate Tea._

Sam grinned. It really was nice to know somebody cared.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: when I wrote this, I was ALSO sleep deprived. ART IMITATES LIFE.


End file.
